Carry Me Back Home
by dietlimepepsi
Summary: When the company funding Sandy's underwater research goes bankrupt, she relocates to California in distress and is scammed into an animal testing scheme. Squidward and Spongebob travel to San Francisco in search of her, and find themselves against far greater conflicts than imaginable. [spandy and slow-developing squid x sponge. rated for violence and sexuality. please R&R!]
1. Chapter 1

While mornings were unpleasant for Squidward in general, he was having a particularly horrible morning.

He had been abruptly woken up by the loud bellow of a horn from the pineapple next to his house, followed the chattering and chirping of clams outside that was abnormally louder and more frantic than usual. He grumbled something profane under his breath and tried to push himself into a sitting position with his two upper tentacles, but his body would not budge. Then suddenly a wave of searing pain rippled across his head and abdomen.

He must have blacked out, because in his next conscious moment he found himself half-sprawled on the floor of his bathroom, dry heaving as he clutched onto the sides of the toilet for dear life. Through a blurred vision of acidic tears, he glanced at the wristwatch hanging off his tentacle and realized he was going to be late for work. He held onto the edge of the sink and slowly lifted himself from the cold linoleum, wincing as another wave of discomfort hit his stomach. He had completely no idea as to what was wrong with his body. The seawater around him had an unusually metallic stench and was almost painful to breathe in.

Squidward had no idea how he managed to trudge his way to work. Just over half an hour later he was standing behind the cash register of the Krusty Krab, tentacles sliding back and forth to take bills and count change as he took orders in his usual grudging and bitter way of conduct. The line before him was almost out the door, meaning that Mr. Krabs was by no doubt going to be laughing and swimming in a bathtub of money very shortly. His head and stomach continued to throb. He fought the urge to double over and curl up on the ground into a ball, telling himself mentally again and again that he needed his minimum wage.

"Two orders of krabby patties and one order of kelp fries!" Squidward shouted behind him to the yellow sponge that was diligently flipping burgers. A wide-eyed and grinning Spongebob immediately bobbed his head and ran to the deep fryers. Squidward furrowed his brows in disgust; Spongebob's love and passion for his mediocre job always sickened him, especially on days in which he felt physically sick. In less than ten seconds Spongebob had gathered the customer's order and was handing it out the window on a red plastic tray. Squidward felt his insides sear up in agony as the scent of the fast food floated towards his face, and he immediately shoved the tray away from himself and into the customer's arms.

He had started to type out the order of the next costumer when he found a puffed-out red pufferfish having stormed in front of his face, holding a half-eaten krabby patty in one outstretched fin. Squidward wrinkled his forehead in annoyance as the angry pufferfish stared up at him. "This krabby patty tastes like plastic! I demand my money back!"

Squidward sighed. The loudness of the pufferfish made his brain ring. He was not in the best mood nor physical condition to argue as he might have otherwise, and he did not want the line to be held up – though he could not possibly care any less about Mr. Krab's business, taking care of the brunch hour line faster meant that he would get to sit down for a few minutes with his head between his knees and let his nausea ease up. He opened the register and took out the exact change plus food service tax of one krabby patty, and handed it to the angry pufferfish. "Here you go, sir - the most sincere of apologies for your dissatisfaction." He sarcastically muttered. "Now will you please stop holding up the line?"

The pufferfish was evidently not satisfied by his lack of sincerity. "That's not the end of this! Where is your manager? I demand to speak with him! I could have been poisoned by whatever was in that krabby patty!"

"Mr. Krabs is currently busy right now. May I offer you a replacement patty?" Squidward knew from experience that his miserly and cowardly boss had likely been eavesdropping on the argument and had triple-locked himself in his office, not wanting to deal with any conflict unless if it involved a substantial sum of money.

"I don't give a flying fish roe! Let me talk to your manager!" The red pufferfish had puffed up to vast proportions. Squidward sighed and made his way towards Mr. Krab's office, balling up one upper tentacle to futilely knock on the door while wrapping the other around his throbbing stomach. He could tell from knocking that the door was triple-locked from the inside, and had heard the faint clicks of the door locking earlier when the red pufferfish had first started yelling.

"I'm sorry, but Mr. Krabs is currently unavailable." Squidward muttered, leaning against Mr. Krab's office door for physical support. His head felt like it was about to bust open and his insides like they were beaten with a hammer and then crudely shoved back into his body. The pufferfish's spikes were dangerously close to his face and tentacles, but it did not come close to startling him in his state of agony.

The pufferfish was shouting something that must have been loud, but the sounds were jumbled to him and barely audible. The sounds and images of his surroundings were blending among each other in a giant swirling kaleidoscope. He felt his body slide down Mr. Krab's office door and hit the ground, even though he felt nothing upon impact.

When he slowly opened his eyes again, he first perceived the color yellow. Spongebob was standing in front of him, smiling like an idiot as he was talking to the pufferfish – who had somehow miraculously de-puffed and did not appear to be screaming any longer. He could not quite make out what Spongebob was saying, but whatever it was – it had saved the day. Squidward felt a brief sense of assurance, and then a sharp pain hit his stomach again and his whole body twisted in distress. Then he realized that he had not been on the ground, but had instead magically floated – no, probably lifted by the claws of Mr. Krabs – and carried away from Spongebob and the pufferfish. Then his surroundings dissolved again.

And then he felt his body pressing against something flat and spongy. Squidward stirred, wincing as his perceptions snapped again back into function and pain ripped through his body yet again. But the warm, spongy surface against his warm was oddly soothing, like a hot water bag. He felt the flow of seawater on his face and the spongy surface that he was pressed against gently bob up and down, meaning that he was probably in the process of being moved. The water felt cold and antagonistic and unfriendly – meaning that it was probably late in the day – and the warmth of the sponge against his body was oddly soothing. He did not open his eyes, but he could tell that it was Spongebob struggling to carry him. The square sponge was neither tall nor strong enough to lift his whole body, and had draped Squidward across his square head with Squidward's tentacles dragging on the ground.

Still having not opened his eyes since regaining consciousness again, Squidward muttered the first thing which came to his mind.

"What in the name of Neptune are you doing, you idiot?"

"Ah, Squidward! I'm so happy that you're awake!" the sponge replied in his usual optimistic and high-pitched voice that made Squidward immediately visualize Spongebob's signature happy smile and simultaneously want to die in annoyance. "You seemed to have passed out while arguing with a customer-"

"I. Wasn't! I was trying to be as nice as humanely possible to that blasphemous red imbecile… and all that could have been so easily avoided had you, the fry cook, not produced a krabby patty infused with the essence of plastic flavoring! Did your brain slip out through the porous holes on your head this morning?"

"I am so sorry about that, Squidward!" as Spongebob apologized, Squidward could visual his genuinely apologetic expression and sighed in defeat. It was difficult to argue with someone who never argued back. "I tried the best of my ability to apologize to him! I kept on apologizing and then he de-puffed and told me that it was ok. But it was so not ok that I ruined his meal, and now due to this horrible experience he even thinks that it's ok for krabby patties to taste like plastic! So I kept on apologizing and apologizing and apologizing… Then he started to look really worried and got on his knees and begged me to stop apologizing! That's when I realized I must have truly ruined his whole day, since my apologies were reminding him of his horrible lunch experience that he wants to erase from memory, so I did the same and apologized more…"

Squidward wanted to smack himself in the face with a tentacle in frustration at the sponge, but his tentacles were wrapped around Spongebob's neck as he was being carried home.

"Wow… I can't believe I co-exist with such idiots."

"I know, Squidward! With all respect, that costumer was not being a smart citizen in keeping up with the news!"

Squidward sighed at the sponge's oblivion to being called an idiot, and then winced again at the dizzying pain which pulsated through his head and stomach. "What news?"

"There has been something called a toxic chemical hazard going on around Bikini Bottom, Squidward." Spongebob said as he attempted to shift the squid's body a bit higher in which to prevent his tentacles from dragging. "I don't know what it means! But Mr. Krabs said it might why the krabby patties were tasting like plastic and why you passed out. The guy in the TV recommends that we get water filters for our homes."

"Wow." Squidward muttered. "That's just great."

Spongebob stopped walking and fidgeted with something that sounded like keys. The door opened, and Squidward was carried in. Without having opened his eyes for the whole duration of his trip on Spongebob's back, he felt a sense of familiarity about him. He slowly opened his eyes and saw that he was in his own living room.

"Wait a minute Spongebob. How did you get my keys?"

"Ah, Mr. Krabs found them on you and told me to bring you home."

"Doesn't Eugene Krabs drive?"

"Ah, yes he does, but Mr. Krabs said he doesn't want to spend fuel money driving in the opposite direction from his own house–"

"Why, that miserly old…"

"–and Mr. Krabs told me that tell you that you get sick leave for today and the tomorrow, and can still get paid in full–"

"That's very generous." Squidward's eyes widened in surprise. He had never been treated this well by his employer before.

"–because he said that your attitude while sick is bad for his reputation and thus bad for his income, and that you absolutely must return to work on best behavior after tomorrow to work twice as hard!"

"…why, that miserly…"

Spongebob gently backed Squidward onto his bed, and then turned around and lifted the rest of the squid's tentacles into the sheets. Only then did the square sponge's legs buckle as he collapsed by Squidward's bed, clearly out of breath from having carried Squidward all the way from work. Squidward felt an unexpected twinge of guilt flow through him – something he was not quite used to feeling.

"I can't believe you carried me back all the way, Spongebob." Squidward muttered. "Don't you have anything else better to do?"

"I was going to go on a date with Sandy, but I had to cancel! Because," Spongebob gasped a few times for oxygen. "Taking care of my friend Squidward is more important!"

"Well, I'm fine now." Squidward rolled his eyes and turned to the other side, his tentacles wrapped around his stomach. "Thank you for all your unnecessary trouble. I can completely manage on my own now. Go on your little date with Sandy."

"Are you sure, Squidward?" the yellow sponge picked himself from off the ground next to Squidward's bed. "I already cancelled on Sandy. I can stay and cook and clean for you like a good friend…"

"No. Thanks!" Squidward muttered.

"Oh, ok Squidward." said Spongebob as he started to walk towards the staircase. "I hope you feel better soon! Let me or Patrick know if you need anything?"

Squidward grumbled and flipped onto his back, folding his lower tentacles in which to relieve tension in his distressed torso. He was back at point zero, in the too-cold covers of his own bed. The awful day should have ended before it even begun. Spongebob was finally leaving him alone and he would probably be on his bed for the next twenty hours, hopefully the majority of which he would be asleep or passed out – surrounded by dark oblivion, free from his toxin-induced physical torment.

He was still physically awake and his eyes were open, but it felt as if dark matter was creeping in a circle around his bed. For a second he thought that he may be about to lose consciousness again, then he realized that all the light and warmth of him room was draining down the stairs along with the presence of Spongebob's footsteps. As Spongebob reached the bottom of the stairs, Squidward's second-floor room had deteriorated into a dim and lifeless chamber. Suddenly, he felt an overwhelming sense of dread and physical chilliness. He buried his face in his pillow and wrapped his tentacles around himself under his covers, trying to contain his own shivering, but it would not stop.

He felt helpless without Spongebob. How did this came to happen?

"Spongebob…?" Squidward whispered as yet another jolt of pain stabbed through his insides and his whole body twisted as he clutched his stomach. His room and bed felt so foreign, and so penetratingly cold – so cold that his heart might stop. He was in so much physical distress that tears were gradually soaking into his pillowcase, and he suddenly missed the warm backside of the annoying sponge. His cynical and intelligent common sense had fallen unconscious before the rest of his senses. He needed the sponge to plug the drain of hope and warmth from his room before he drowns. His shaky whisper emerged almost in begging. "Spongebob… stay with me…"

Then, he woke up in the arms of the yellow sponge, who had crawled into his bed in attempt to keep him warm. Spongebob's stretchy arms were wrapped around Squidward's body, providing his abdominal pain with some relief through warmth and pressure. Squidward drew a breath. He could berate himself later for being awkwardly spooned by his annoying neighbor, but the presence of the yellow sponge next to him in his moment of fragility was like a protective shroud.

And when he woke up again, more than twelve hours later, Spongebob was gone – presumably having gone off to work. Squidward wondered where the warmth on his body was coming from, and then found a large water bag pressed against his stomach. He did not own any water bags, and it must have been left there by the sponge – judging from the words "To Squidward" that have been markered onto the hot water bag in the sponge's chunky handwriting.

He did not have to go to work, so he held the hot water bag close to his body and gradually folded his lips into a smile.


	2. Chapter 2

Sandy sat alone at her coffee table in her tree house. The quietness made the ticking of her wall clock almost oppressive. Her tea mug was stained at the rim with a peach colored kiss print from her lipstick. Her tea had gone completely cold while she was in waiting.

It was an hour before Spongebob was getting out of his job at the Krusty Krab, after which they were arranged to meet at her tree house. She had told him that they were going on a date that evening, to which he had cheerfully and eagerly accepted. She needed to see him immediately. She had a lot to tell him that she perhaps should have told earlier.

One week ago, she had gotten a letter in the mail notifying her that the company funding her underwater research and her tree dome was on the verge of bankruptcy. The late CEO had passed on the title of the highest management to a senior manager with long expertise at a branch in Austin, Texas – but everybody was aware at it was the late CEO manager's son who took over his late father's legacy. The new CEO was naïve and had barely started learning his father's trade when he claimed his power, and under his idealistic policies of cutting ties with all allies whose economic policies he deemed too capitalistic and inhumane the company's stocks had devalued gradually over two weeks before a climatic crash. When the new CEO had been finally voted off from his throne of power after an unnecessarily long and formal process that was truly impractical for such an emergency scenario, the damages to the company were already beyond repair.

The letter notified her that in a week from the expected delivery date of the letter – on short notice – she was expected to leave her tree dome. The land property of her tree house had been sold to a popular supermarket chain enterprise. What financial compensation the company was able to repay her was much less than she expected, and would likely sustain her underwater living expenses for only a month before she would go completely broke. She needed to find another job, and her opportunities were strictly limited underwater due to her dependency on her diving suit and dry-land air – not to mention, the cost for her to live underwater was exponentially high. Without the funds from her former company, she could not possibly sustain the cost of staying in Bikini Bottom.

One week ago, after she had read the letter over for the tenth time and realized that it was not a nightmare, she had cried until her tears ran completely dry. She had been collapsed on her bed, wishing desperately for the escapism of sleep to overpower her and take her away from the pain of wakefulness. After two hours of trembling and turning, she crawled under her bed and tried to fall asleep there. When that failed, she went to the kitchen and curled up on the cold linoleum tiles, hoping for the coldness to numb her mind and to eventually feel nothing at all.

How she wished that she was a fish, or crab, or sponge, or starfish. How she wished that her physical limitations did not have to force her to leave Bikini Bottom.

The next morning, she did not tell Spongebob and the rest of her underwater friends and acquaintances about the letter. She was afraid of the truth. She wanted to try to enjoy every last moment in Bikini Bottom as if she did not have to move away. But her sensible, strong side prevailed in pushing her to go up to dry land in search of a new job and a new place to live. She told Spongebob that she was going on a trip to see some distant squirrel relatives, and had gone to the San Francisco Bay Area for five days of the next week.

Upon arrival, she slept on trees at in small city parks at night and spent her days familiarizing herself with the statistics and regions of California. The tightly-packed neighborhoods, stampedes of human beings and traffic during rush hours, and diversity of humans were completely unlike what she had experienced in Texas. At some point in San Francisco, she had even gotten stuck in a large parade of rainbow flags and humans that wore similar rainbow-colored resembles while displaying public affection with their same-sex partners. In the small grocery store-lined streets of Chinatown, she had fought with some pigeons for a piece of fried Chinese long doughnut.

She had tried talking with the local squirrels to ask them about potential opportunities, but the majority of the squirrels she met appeared to live almost vagrant-like lifestyles. They were mostly highly educated, many having acquired an education in the liberal arts, but lived lavishly without the need for employment. They interacted closely with the human species – which interacted with the squirrels closely and provided the local squirrels with more food than they really needed. Those educated "vagrant" squirrels lived off of the human species, spending their days browsing art museums, browsing the internet off of free wifi at coffee shops, smoking recreational marijuana, and throwing parties with other squirrels in the city.

During her conversations with the local squirrels, Sandy had told them about the bankruptcy of her company back in Texas and the end of her research career in marine biology. The other squirrels expressed condolence at this and were amazed that she had lived by herself underwater. In their opinion, traveling under the sea was for resort vacations and honeymoons – though the majority of them would rather invest in traveling to Shanghai or Paris instead.

Sandy could not picture herself living off of humankind and spending every day in leisure. After three days had gone by fruitlessly, Sandy was beginning to question whether she should abandon the idea of starting a new career in California. Maybe she should go back to Texas and live with her parents while figuring out what to do with her life… but, that would be so far from the sea, so far from Spongebob.

Spongebob.

Since she received the letter of her former company's bankruptcy, she had been mentally blocking all thoughts of him in order to get done what she needed to get done, in order to still normally function. All the memories with him, of him – of his high-pitched laugh, of running through jelly fish fields, of karate practice… She had been so used to his constant presence in her life, of him always being there for her, that she may have taken it for granted.

On the fourth day of her job-seeking trip to San Francisco, Sandy climbed up to a water fountain in order to bathe her tired body. As the icy water hit her fur, she realized just how much water, sea water, the ocean… meant to her. She realized that she loved Spongebob. The water emerging from the water fountain was so fresh, so foreign, so cold, so unlike the waters of Bikini Bottom that she had walked side-by-side with Spongebob throughout.

She continued to bathe herself while crying, her tears becoming one with the icy stream of fountain water that drenched her whole body. She felt a part of her leaking away into the drainage away from her. How would she ever feel whole again without Spongebob?

When she opened her eyes, she saw another squirrel on the opposite end of the fountain staring at her. He stared at her and did not look away when they made eye contact, and Sandy became conscious of her soaked-through light purple dress which clung to her body. Sandy's immediately reaction was to consider sending a flying kick over and knocking him off of the fountain for observing her bathe, but identified no threat nor perverseness in his glance. She turned off the water stream of the fountain and walked towards him.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

The male squirrel was taller than her and clad in loose khaki shorts and an unbuttoned red and blue plaid shirt. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and his forearms were well-muscled. The fur on his head was slicked back with gel, and his eyes were dark and piercing.

"I haven't seen you around," the male squirrel extended his front paw, and Sandy shook it cautiously. "My name is Tim, Tim Chen. What's yours?"

"Sandy," she replied swiftly. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"I can tell from your accent that you're not a local in San Francisco." Tim smiled. "Neither am I, I just recently relocated to here from Beijing three months ago. It was difficult adjusting at first, but San Francisco is like a diverse melting pot of everything. I don't even plan on improvising my own accent. So what brought you to San Francisco, Sandy?"

Sandy looked down from Tim's dark eyes and realized that he was still holding onto her front paw, and she gently removed her hand. "Well, it's a long story… I don't know if you want to listen to it all."

"No, tell me." Tim smiled. "I want to know your story. In the meantime, let's not keep standing high up on this fountain. Let's talk about it over some coffee."

"I… I don't drink coffee." Sandy replied.

"They have decaffeinated Italian cream soda too. The apple crumb cake is my personal favorite." Tim began to climb off of the water fountain, and Sandy hesitantly followed him. "You're a guest to this city; please give me the honor of treating you as a welcome. There are many bars and bistros for squirrels like us all over the city, but since it's densely human-populated, it's hard to figure out their locations as a guest. When I first arrived, I did not know about all those places and ended up fighting with some pigeons in Chinatown over a dumpling. It was such an embarrassment!"

Sandy chuckled. "I had an experience just like that earlier."

"Well, as long as you know me, that's the last of such experiences you'll be having." Tim had slid to the bottom of the fountain, and outstretched his arms to catch Sandy. Sandy hesitated, and then slid down into his arms. He caught her in his firm arms and held her in the air for just a moment, staring into her eyes, before setting her down. Sandy felt a hint of blush rising to her cheeks.

He took her by the paw again and guided her through the heavy traffic and a group of chain-smoking humans by a smoke shop, and then helped her up the pipelines in an empty alleyway until they had reached the rooftop of a human hotel. The rooftop was densely populated with squirrels pushing by each other, and buildings appropriate to Sandy's scale filled up the horizon. Apartment buildings lined up the tops of restaurants and clothing boutiques. It was like the humans' San Francisco, on her own scale.

"Wow." Sandy drew a breath. She had not experienced this type of city life in Bikini Bottoms, nor in Texas. "It's so busy."

"Indeed. My exact thoughts when I first arrived as well. This is where all of us interact. The squirrels that tend to hang out in the parks are practically vagrants that refuse to work and leech off of humankind. Let's find ourselves a seat, and then you are going to tell me how you came to here."

They found an empty table on the outside of Tim's favorite café right as another couple stood up to leave. Tim went inside and came back with their beverages, and Sandy told him of her work in Bikini Bottoms and then her company's bankruptcy. She held her posture and did not cry while telling her story – she was not ready to show weakness in front of this new acquaintance, not yet.

Nor was she ready to tell him about Spongebob. That was one topic she could not possibly talk about without showing weakness: Spongebob.

"Wow. That is quite a story. I'm sorry, I don't quite know of what to say." Tim placed down his black coffee and reached across the table to hold her hand in his again. "I actually came to California in search of another job opportunity as well, when my trade company in Beijing went similarly bankrupt. It's quite unfortunate how these circumstances beyond our control occur and change our whole directions in life… But you know, I was very much tormented at first. I drank and chain smoked, not knowing what to do. I was an absolute wreck and completely unlike the man I am today. But then I found a great employment opportunity here, I've made so many great friends, and the company bankruptcy that seemed like a curse at the moment turned out to be a blessing in disguise. I'm so happy I came to San Francisco."

"What job do you do?" Sandy pondered.

"It's complicated to describe, but it's got endless benefits – health insurance, company parties, excellent pay, paid vacations, you name it. We're very selective with our employees, trust me, but you seem like just the kind of person we need." Tim smiled. "If you're interested, I'll bring you there tomorrow for an interview."

"I have to leave back to Bikini Bottom early tomorrow morning." Sandy replied. "I will come back after I get everything from my home packed and ready for storage… Would you show me then?"

"Oh yes, my absolute honor!" Tim continued to smile as he finished his coffee.

"Will you give me the address of the company you work at?"

"Ah… about that, it's very difficult to locate from the address." Tim put down his coffee, pulled out a name card from the breast pocket of his plaid shirt, and slid it across the table. "Our new branch in San Francisco is relatively new, and it would be a lot easier if I just show you there for an interview. Why don't I give you my own contact information instead, and I meet you when you are back to San Francisco? Let me give you this also–" he reached into his pocket again and unfolded a contract. "If you're interested in joining, please sign this and mail it to me. I know that this seems very sudden, but it's a competitive position, and it would be great to have your commitment."

"Oh… ok, that sounds cool." Sandy smiled for the first time since she surfaced from the ocean to California. Signing a contract ahead of time did not feel completely secure, but she had been underwater for so long that she had no idea if the times have changed on land. Plus, it was the first job offering she received, and maybe the last. "I'll consider it."

Tim stood up. "It's getting late; shall you allow me to show you around the nightlife here? Since you are leaving tomorrow morning, I want to give you a great lasting memory of San Francisco that will make you definitely look forward to coming back – and by that, coming here permanently and making this place your new home. I'm new too and I'll accompany you, ok?"

"Ok." Sandy could only nod as she also stood up. Tears were starting to brim from her eyes. She felt so lonely all of a sudden without Spongebob, though it's been only four days since she last practiced karate with him, smiling and pretending that nothing was going wrong. She wanted to see Spongebob so badly; though she knew it would make her feel even lonelier – knowing that she cannot stay with him any longer.

"What's wrong, beautiful?" Tim took her by the shoulders. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Sandy shook her head; tears were streaking down her face now. She did not fight as Tim pulled her closer and put his hands comfortingly on her back. Tim gently stroked her head.

"Shall we go get some drinks, Sandy? I know it's tough. You'll make it. I believe in you."

And so they went, and the next few hours and ten shots of Bacardi went by in a blur. Sandy did not realize how intoxicated she was until she stood up from the bar seat and the ground suddenly flew towards her. She felt Tim catch her in his arms and guide her outside. The whole outside was a complete blur of empty faces, of bright neon lights, of smoke-filled city air. There was no Spongebob.

Where was Spongebob? She walked in a daze holding onto the hand that guided her. Then she did not remember anything anymore.

Sandy woke up with her head in tremendous pain, and was immediately thankful for the curtains that shielded her sensitive eyes from the morning sun. She closed her eyes, trying to remember the last time she ever got a hangover. She turned around with her eyes shut, trying sleep off her piercing headache, when she heard the sound of a glass being placed on the bed stand.

She opened her eyes. There was a full glass of water in front of her, and attached to that glass of water was a paw leading up to Tim's face. Tim was wearing nothing but plaid boxers, and smiled down at her in the hotel bed. "Come on, drink some water. You need hydration after last night."

Sandy looked to the side of the bed and saw her light purple dress strewn on the floor, under her black lace lingerie. She was naked under the hotel's feather comforters. Then suddenly, memories of the night before pieced together in her mind. She had slept with Tim, after just meeting him for one day. Tim had brought her stumbling into a hotel and booked a room for her. In the elevator, she – not Tim – had made the first move, and had pushed Tim into the wall next to the elevator door, almost accidentally pressing the emergency stop button, locking her lips with his. He had carried her bridal style to her room and set her down on the bed, and then she had sat up and pulled her short purple dress over her head before lying back down. Tim had not resisted her temptation.

She had seduced Tim while drunk.

It was not Spongebob.

Sandy had accepted his glass of water, staring blankly ahead.

"Remember to contact me once you're back in San Francisco." Tim smiled again as he begun to put on his khakis. "We still need to get you to that job interview."

That was how her trip to San Francisco ended. Tim had seen her off to the bus stop, she picked up her scuba diving suit from storage, and then she had continued to stare blankly ahead for the whole ride back to her tree house.

Upon arriving at her tree house, Sandy stepped immediately into the shower. She scrubbed at her body with her lemongrass scented soap until her fur felt raw. What was she doing? Why was she hiding all of her suffering from Spongebob and seeking condolence in the arms of Tim? She needed to tell Spongebob what was going on. Spongebob was always there for her, and would definitely be there for her now. Surely he would save her. She did not know how, but she believed in him. She needed to see him in person.

Her last hope was on Spongebob. He was the only thing holding her back from escaping the insecurity of unemployment, from escaping the hardship of trying to survive underwater unfunded.

So she had made plans for a date with him the next day.

But the next day, as she sat waiting with her lipstick-stained mug of cold tea, Spongebob called her from work and told her that he was cancelling on her. Squidward had collapsed, the sponge said, and he needed to take his co-worker and friend home.

Sandy hung up. Why is it that she cannot bare to tell him the news over the phone? She did not understand herself.

As she sat in her empty tree house sipping her now completely cold tea, her peach lipstick having smudged off completely, she realized that she had lost to Squidward. All her years with Spongebob, the development of her clandestine adoration for him, the last several heart-wrenching days post having received the letter with regard to her former company's bankruptcy. All her time and tears have cultivated into a singular, anti-climatic phone call: of Spongebob choosing to prioritize Squidward over her.

Sandy started to laugh. She laughed so hard that she slapped the coffee table, sending her mug to the ground and shattering into several pieces. A few of the shards grazed her legs. How naïve of her to have dramatized her friendship with Spongebob so much in her head! To even irrationally fantasize over Spongebob as her knight in shining armor, who was somehow capable of saving her from the perils of reality itself – as if any part of that was even possible! How completely unfair was it of her to feel jealousy for Spongebob's devotion to his friend – when she herself had given her body to Tim!

Her head felt like it was about to bust open. She needed someone to hand her a cold glass of water. But she was alone in her tree house, and nobody was there to do so.

She needed to get away from her shame, her failure to be his top priority, her irrational jealousy of Squidward – yes, it wasn't his fault that he had collapsed – but she might have left her rationality somewhere in San Francisco, and cannot assess the situation rationally. She had to go back to San Francisco to find the rationality she had lost and shove it back into her head. She had to go back to Tim. She had to prove to herself that her one night with him meant something, and thus prove to herself that she was not in love with Spongebob.

Her emotions and frantic thoughts were exploding everywhere like her mug that had fallen to the ground, but then Sandy's rationality kicked in again. She swept up the broken pieces of the mug, signed Tim's contract, put on her scuba suit for the second-to-last time to mail out Tim's contract, and then called the moving services.

Goodbye Spongebob.


	3. Chapter 3

"Spongebob...?"

Spongebob's foot was almost out of the door of Squidward's home when he heard Squidward's feeble whisper from upstairs. He stood there with his foot lifted, unsure of whether he heard wrong or not. Did Squidward not just tell him to leave?

"Spongebob… Stay with me…"

Spongebob closed the front door and walked back upstairs into the cephalopod's room. Squidward's face was twisted in agony as beads of sweat formed above his brow, his tentacles tightly clutching onto his stomach with layers of covers in between. Unsure of what to do, the sponge walked back to Squidward's bed and placed a hand over his tentacle. Squidward's body felt colder than the freezer at the Krusty Krab. Spongebob's heart pounded faster. He did not know what to do, besides that he could not possibly leave Squidward alone.

"Squidward? Squidward!" Spongebob shook his co-worker by the shoulders, but the octopus was barely responsive. "What should I do? Should I call for an ambulance?"

Squidward weakly shook his head. Spongebob doubted that the octopus would remember any of this by the next morning.

"Do… you have an indoor heater, Squidward?" Spongebob scanned the room for any possible heating device in which to keep the cephalopod's body temperature from dropping to zero.

Squidward weakly shook his head again. His whole body spasmed and bent forward from the pain that radiated from his core.

Not knowing what else to do for the octopus, Spongebob slid himself next to Squidward in bed and wrapped his arms around Squidward's body. Squidward felt as cold as an icicle, and the sponge shivered. He was surprised that Squidward did not attempt to shove him off, as he has practically done every time Spongebob has attempted to express physical friendliness, but it was simultaneously not surprising given the circumstance. "It'll be ok, Squidward! I'm here for you!"

Squidward's body seemed to lose tension, gradually eased by the sponge's warmth and spongy comfort. Spongebob grinned, pressed against the octopus's back. This was probably the closest physical contact he has maintained with Squidward without being shoved off.

Earlier, when he had been grilling burgers, he had heard loud yelling coming from the outside of the kitchen that was followed by the thump of Squidward hitting the floor, followed by the sounds of his tentacles separately falling down. When he saw Squidward lying unconscious, his heart had almost sunk out of his square body.

He had been looking forward to a date with Sandy later that evening, but suddenly nothing else quite mattered besides the priority of Squidward. He had eased the formerly yelling customer while Mr. Krabs had finally stepped out of his office and lifted the inert octopus off of the floor. Unfortunately there was still much work to be done, and Spongebob exerted himself over until closing to work both the cashier stand and the cooking. After one of the most exhaustive shifts of his career, he finally called Sandy from the payphone and told her that he needed to cancel.

Sandy hung up on him, but he did not have the luxury at the time of thinking much about it. He was sure that he would have plenty of more opportunities to ask Sandy on another date in the future and make up for his last-minute cancellation. Sandy was not the type to hold grudges against anybody, and would surely forgive him, right?

Spongebob held Squidward until dusk broke, thinking of ways that he would make up to Sandy. He picked up one of Squidward's upper tentacles to check his co-worker's wristwatch, and saw that he needed to get to work in just slightly over an hour. But he still needed to keep Squidward comfortable, and the cold-blooded cephalopod next to him had still not woken up. Spongebob gently tucked Squidward's tentacle back under the covers and slid out of the bed, being careful not to produce unnecessary noise, and left for the supermarket that was open earliest.

Spongebob rubbed his hands against his arms upon having approached the supermarket, the water around him cold from the sun having not yet risen. Nobody was inside except for two employees sleepy-looking from the earliness of their morning shift and an old, presumably retired fish slowly browsing the food aisles. Spongebob found a hot water bag for Squidward inside and made his way to the singular open check-out aisle, behind the slow-moving elderly fish. As he stood there in boredom, his eyes glancing around the lighted rooftop for anything of interest, he noticed a large poster.

The sign declared that the chain supermarket was opening another store that would be on another side of Bikini Bottom, and that construction was expected to begin immediately for the new store to be open in just two months. But what caught his attention was the address.

It was the address of Sandy's tree dome. Spongebob blinked a few times, and the contents of the large poster remained as they were.

"Something fishy's going on." He squinted against the bright ceiling lights and muttered to himself.

"Well, excuse my trimethylaminuria!" the elderly fish gave him an annoyed look and stomped away before he could clarify his statement.

Spongebob went back to Squidward's house and tucked a filled hot water bag next to his body, and then went straight to work. After a slow day of working both positions again, he returned to his pineapple for the first time in nearly two days to drop off his work hat and nametag before leaving for Sandy's tree dome. He walked at first, and then broke into a run. He sighed with relief when he noticed that Sandy's tree dome was still there. Her purple curtains were still over her windows.

He knocked loudly upon the entrance, and then stood and waited. No response. He knocked again. The gate finally opened to let him in, and he was filled with almost frightful anticipation as the water in the entrance room was drained. Something felt wrong, very wrong.

To his dismay, Sandy was not standing on the other side of the entrance room. He walked in towards her tree, the dry earth of the ground soaking up the seawater that dripped from his spongy surface. Her door was unlocked, and he knocked gently to alert Sandy of his entrance before walking in.

His jaw almost dropped. The room was completely devoid of furniture and belongings, with the exception of the curtains, a cover-less mattress over a bed frame, and two filled luggage cases. Sandy sat on the corner of the mattress, not looking him the eyes. Her eyes were red and bloodshot.

"Sandy? What is going on?" Spongebob took hesitant steps towards her, his heart pounding. "Where are all your things?"

Sandy stood up, still avoiding his gaze. When she finally spoke, her voice was raspy. "I am leaving tomorrow, Spongebob. My company went bankrupt and isn't funding my underwater research anymore."

Spongebob stood there stunned as he took in the squirrel's statement, then his next emotional outburst came beyond his own control.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I… I tried to, yesterday." Sandy's shoulders shook as the welled-up tears in her already bloodshot eyes began to fall down. "I couldn't bare telling you over the phone, I needed to tell you in person."

Spongebob tried to breathe normally. His chest hurt. "Where are you going?"

"To California… I went there and found a job offer, and last night I sent them my confirmation." Sandy continued to shake.

"Why did you lie to me about where you were going? Why did you have to keep this kind of information to yourself for so long?" Spongebob heard himself scream. Please calm down and stop screaming, he tried to tell himself, but his vocals were acting out of his control. "You could have told me! We could have figured out something before it was too late! You're my friend and I would have been there for you! Why couldn't you have trusted me? Why couldn't you have at least told me about it over the phone last night?"

"I'm sorry Spongebob… I'm so sorry." Streams of tears streaked across the squirrel's face, her body shuddering with each violet sob. Unable to sustain her stance any longer, she had fell sitting to the floor, gripping onto her curtains for lack of something else to hold onto. This was the conclusion of her undersea adventure with Spongebob, and she no longer had the strength to make a grandeur exit.

Spongebob breathed heavily in the dryness of the tree dome's atmosphere; his heart throbbing with each rapid beat as the reality of his permanent separation from Sandy came crashing down like a hurricane upon Bikini Bottom. He hung his head low and clutched his fists until his knuckles turned blue, biting his lip to avoid spewing any more words that would hurt the squirrel. Then suddenly he felt his grief, which had previously manifested itself into uncontrollable rage, ease and shift into a sense of acceptance.

"There's… maybe… there's nothing we can really do to change this right now." Spongebob sighed heavily, releasing the tension from his fists. He felt very lightheaded all of a sudden, and not necessarily due to being no longer surrounded by water. He felt the warmness on his cheeks and realized that he was crying too.

Still crying, Sandy crawled towards him on her knees. She wrapped her arms around his square frame and sobbed onto his neck, his spongy texture soaking up her tears. Spongebob stared blankly ahead, his arms wrapped around the squirrel of his dreams for what was maybe the last time. He felt guilty for having been angry at her. All of this was partially his fault too – had he not stayed over the other night to awkwardly keep Squidward company, he possibly could have kept Sandy in his life. Evidently it was not the desired consequence for his actions, but some outcomes were out of his control.

Spongebob pulled away slightly and then, slowly and almost shakily, placed a hesitant kiss on Sandy's damp cheek. He wanted to tell Sandy that he loved her – it might be his last chance, but swallowed his words as they begun to surface. What difference would it make if he told her that he loved her now, except for deepen their mutual suffering?

Sandy looked him in the eyes through a screen of tears, then leaned in and locked lips with him. She wrapped her arms around his square neck. Spongebob stroked her back and reciprocated the passion of her kiss, his small sense of rationale fighting with his pent-up desires until the ladder had defeated the formerly by merely microscopic stakes. Not breaking their lip-lock, Sandy lifted herself to her knees and scooted closer to him, planting herself down in his lap and wrapping her slim legs around his square back.

They stayed like that for a few moments, then Spongebob slid his hands onto her light purple skirt and lifted her off of the ground. He placed the squirrel down on her bed, which consisted now of only a bare mattress over a wooden bed frame after she had finished packing. They broke their kiss as Sandy laid herself down and looked so vulnerable with her unending stream of tears that Spongebob was unsure if they should continue, but then Sandy gripped him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him onto her. As her lips locked again with his, she had begun to unravel the tie from his white shirt.

Five hours later, Spongebob was lying next to Sandy with her head on his shoulder. They had removed the curtain and used it as a makeshift cover for the night. Their clothes were strewn in separate articles at the foot of the bed. The water supply to Sandy's tree house had already been cut off, and Sandy had to douse Spongebob with her second-to-last bottle of water in the middle of the night to keep him from drying out. Spongebob was aware that Sandy was also awake and had also not slept a wink for the night, but did not know what to say. Every time his mind started to flood with thoughts, they seemed to empty right out of the porous holes on his head before they could become transformed into words. They continued to awkwardly lie together, until Sandy broke the silence.

"I will send you a letter by seagull delivery every other week, Spongebob. We'll stay in touch."

"Ok, Sandy." Spongebob smiled his usual smile and turned towards Sandy, wrapping his other arm around her. Some of his characteristic optimism flowed back into him, although he was not sure of how long it would endure. "I'll wait for your letter every week! And maybe we can visit too!"

Sandy seemed to also faintly smile in the darkness of her now-empty tree house. "Yeah, we'll always be good mates, Spongebob! No matter where we are!"

"Yeah, it's just a five-year contract, right?" Spongebob felt him growing irrationally hopeful. Though he was usually full of optimism and hope, the fact that he identified his own irrationality was frightening. "Maybe there's a chance that you can come back for research… or, if not, I'll come to where you are and live in a fish tank!"

Sandy laughed. Her eyelashes fluttered against Spongebob's cheek. "I can't let you do that for me, Spongebob. That's very flattering though."

Spongebob squinted and looked in the dark towards where Sandy's wall clock had hung, and then remembered that Sandy had obviously packed it away with the rest of her luggage. "When does your bus come tomorrow, Sandy?"

"Six-thirty in the morning," said Sandy as she pulled away from Spongebob and picked up from the ground her watch that had came loose during their awkward lovemaking. "It's five-thirty now."

"Are you completely done packing, Sandy? You should get ready–" Spongebob began, but Sandy pushed him back down and buried her face on his shoulder.

"Please, let me stay like this for just a few more minutes."

As these words hit his non-existent ears, Spongebob's head suddenly became flooded with the thought of Squidward. Squidward had also asked the same of him the night before yesterday – albeit they were fully-dressed, and nothing like what he did with Sandy had happened, Squidward was his friend and nothing else – and he had stayed. But he had not stayed until the morning. In fact, he had not seen Squidward in more than a day. Was Squidward alright? Was his stomach still bothering him? Was he going to go to work today?

Spongebob closed his eyes and tried to think of Sandy, of only Sandy. He would have plenty of time after six-thirty to think of Sandy, but the next time he can think of Sandy while holding her may be far into he future. He does not want to think about how far that may be.

An hour later they were both fully dressed and have loaded Sandy's luggage onto luggage carrier of the bus. Sandy had her helmet and diving suit back on. The water around them was still dark at six-thirty in the morning.

"Well, I guess this is it for now, Spongebob." Sandy tried to smile, and Spongebob could see how hard she was trying to hold back her tears. "Remember to check your mail for my postcards… I'll miss you."

Spongebob hugged the squirrel tightly. Her diving suit was in the way of him touching her, but he remembers how her body felt in his arms. "I'll look forward to your letters! Take care, Sandy."

Then the bus drove away. Spongebob stood there, watching the bus roll away and become smaller and smaller. Sandy waved to him out the window, and then turned around. He knew that she could not fight back her tears any longer. He wished for a miracle to happen, for the bus to stop and for Sandy to run back into his arms and tell him that her contract had been cancelled and that she can stay in Bikini Bottoms with him. He wanted to run as fast as his legs would take him and yell at the bus to stop, and hold Sandy in his arms and tell her that she should let it all go and live with him, and let him take care of her – but he knew that Sandy had more ambition, and that he was not qualified to take care of her forever.

"Goodbye, Sandy." He said to himself towards the shadow of the bus on the horizon and watched at it finally rolled out of sight. He continued standing there; unmoving, still clinging on to the fragment of hope that Sandy might come back.

He lost track completely of how much time was passing by.

"Why are you standing there?" A familiar voice rang out behind him. "Aren't you usually first to show up to work?"

Spongebob turned around. Squidward stood behind him in his Krusty Krab employee's hat, one eyebrow raised and looking infinite times healthier than his previous state when Spongebob had carried him back from work. Spongebob stood facing the octopus, not knowing of what to say as his whole body started to shiver. Then he burst into tears.

"SANDYJUSTLEFTANDIT'SALLMYFAULTANDIT'SALLMYFAULTANDSHE'SNOTCOMINGBACK…"

He was still sobbing uncontrollably as Squidward's tentacle reached out and took him by the wrist, then led him back to his pineapple. He stood crying loudly in his living room as Squidward found his employee's hat and placed it on his head, then took him by the wrist again and walked him towards the Krusty Krab. Squidward did not say a word nor turn around the whole trip, and he was thankful.

When they entered the Krusty Krab, Squidward let go of his hand and Spongebob's work mode automatically snapped on. He grinned, went to the kitchen, washed his hands and begun his day's work. He did not shed another tear until work was finished, not even while chopping the onions.

Hours later, when they had finished closing the Krusty Krab, he stepped outside to lock the Krusty Krab with Squidward – who had on a bored expression as usual – standing behind him. In the corner of his eye, he saw a bus resembling the bus that Sandy had boarded half a day earlier drive into view. But the bus was not in service – there were no passengers.

Spongebob's work mode triggered off and he started immediately bawling. He felt Squidward's tentacle slip onto his wrist again and lead him back home. Squidward still had not said a word to him since he burst into tears at the bus stop.

When he finally crawled into bed and draped his covers over himself, he felt so lonely all of a sudden. He had stopped sobbing loudly, but his eyes were still leaking tears to the point of dehydration. He missed Sandy, but a part of him also wished that Squidward could have accompanied him for the night. He wished that he could have had the courage to ask Squidward to stay, but – even though it would be purely platonic like when he had stayed with Squidward, right? – it did not feel appropriate after he had slept with Sandy just the night before. Plus he was sure that if he had made the request, Squidward would have just given him an annoyed and revolted look before slamming the door. Plus, Squidward had been in numbing agony when he asked Spongebob to stay with him. Otherwise it would not have happened, ever.

Spongebob closed his eyes and imagined that he was still holding onto Sandy – or even Squidward, or anybody that would lie to him and tell him that everything would feel alright by the morning. Not being able to remember when was the last time he had slept, he allowed his overactive sense of imagination to eventually carry him off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

_Thank you so much to everyone that read/reviewed/favorited this fanfic! Your suppot has really motivated me to keep writing. ^_^ This is the FIRST fanfic I've ever written, so I really appreciate all your comments._


	4. Chapter 4

"Number 384, please come in."

Squidward scrunched his forehead and crossed his arms as he shifted lower in his waiting-room plastic seat. He had been sitting in the waiting room for almost two hours already, and he was beginning to lament having not faked an emergency in which to qualify for the emergency care unit. The day he had finally decided to seek treatment – after almost a week of chronic symptoms of piercing headaches and abdominal pain – his symptoms were barely present, ironically to his disadvantage as he then was forced to wait for hours with everybody else. How he hated the limitations of having no private healthcare plan. Now as he was back in the hospital to pick up his results two days later, his ironic lack of serious symptoms had subjected him to the waiting room again.

He had passed by where used to be Sandy's tree dome on the bus ride to the hospital. All components of Sandy's tree dome had already been moved, and a construction team had already started to build for the foundation for the future supermarket branch. He had not been present when Sandy's tree dome had been destructed, but he could vividly imagine the wrecking ball having smashed open the glass and the empty air pocket inside floating up in large bubbles from the destruction, popping open on the surface of the ocean and releasing all the captive memories of Sandy's days under the ocean into open air. A stream of bubbles and a few pops was all it took for Bikini Bottom to purge itself of the air that Sandy used to breathe.

He had seen Spongebob break down once with regard to Sandy's leaving, and then the sponge appeared to return to his usual optimistic self. Squidward had decided not to question what exactly had happened, not wanting to trigger the sponge to deteriorate into another crying mess, but Mr. Krabs had decided to ask Spongebob that during a ten-minute break at work out of curiosity – and to his surprise, Spongebob had delivered a response with composition that Squidward would have never expected from him in any given situation. That was how Squidward learned that Sandy's former company had went bankrupt, and that she had left for California.

Squidward's interactions with Sandy had mostly been forced group interactions with Spongebob, but her absence triggered a sense of panic in a corner of his mind. He had hated his life and hated the dreary, repetitive pace of the everyday, but how quickly Sandy left Bikini Bottom reminded him of how everything could change in an instant. Though he hated every idiot he was forced to interact with in the dreaded hick town he had been stuck in for years, he was so used to hating everybody and in turn, feeling the proof of his own existence from hating everyone. What if there was nobody around for him to feel hatred and annoyance towards? How would he remind himself of his vitality then, spending every waking moment alternating between work and clarinet and idleness until he became a living machine?

Squidward hated his daily interactions, especially with Spongebob, but the past week – in which his malfunctioning body had caused him to collapse twice already at work thus far – had painfully reminded him just how dependent he could be on others. Spongebob had painstakingly half-carried, half-dragged him back home on both of these days. To his own embarrassment, he had been miserable enough each time to ask Spongebob to stay with him each night, and they had even shared the same bed – he could only hope that Squilliam never finds out.

"Number 405, please come in."

His train of thought was disrupted by his detection of his number being finally called. Squidward quickly jumped off of his plastic waiting chair, cramped and frustrated from having sat immobile for hours. This sudden movement sent a jolt of agony through his cranium and he winced, his long body swaying to the side until he steadied himself against the wall. He almost wished that he had the thick skin to ask Spongebob to have accompanied him, but was quite certain that the sponge's high-pitched voice would have only given him a more aggravate headache.

The doctor was an elderly and slow-moving fish, wearing a stereotypical stethoscope over his white doctor's uniform and holding a clipboard. As he sat down, Squidward thought of what a waste of time his two visits to the hospital would be if he was diagnosed with nothing at all – then realized just how wrong that thought was, and that he should perhaps be knocking on some wood.

"Ah, Mr. Tentacles." The doctor adjusted his round spectacles and very slowly moved his eyes down the contents of the clipboard. Squidward fought the urge to grab the clipboard and to read it himself.

"Yes, that's me." Squidward started to cross his four lower tentacles in varying layers while waiting for the doctor to finish observing the clipboard.

"Well, Mr. Tentacles, I assume that you sometimes watch the television."

"Yes, I do." What did that have to do with anything?

"You must be aware that there has been a mild toxic chemical hazard going on in this city right now. Five citizens have already been hospitalized for heavy metal poisoning."

"Yeah, I'm aware." Squidward slouched in his seat. "And I'm aware it's probably that… But this has always been a present issue underwater more or less, and relocating is not going to necessarily decrease the concentration of heavy metals much. Can I just get some prescription drugs to alleviate the symptoms, so that I can function?"

The doctor put down his clipboard. "Well, Mr. Tentacles… Since you seem informed about this, I will get straight to it. Would you like to hear the good news or the bad news first?"

Oh brother, Squidward thought. Did the doctor really have to keep wasting his time?

"Alright… let me hear the good news."

"The good news, Mr. Tentacles, is that you have proven to be unusually sensitive to the effects of lead and beryllium pollution. However, if you can get out of the ocean while the city continues to work on filtration of the water environment, it may be enough for your body to lower your heavy metal build-up and mostly recover."

How was that good news?

"And the bad news?"

"The bad news, Mr. Tentacles, is that if you don't immediately act to remove yourself from the oceans right now, your system will sustain gradual damage that may eventually be permanently damaging. Or even fatal, in the worst case possible."

Squidward wondered what was truly the worst case possible – was it to be dead, or alive but in crippling physical agony and psychological anguish for the rest of his life? Both sounded undesirable, though the ladder perhaps worse. As he sat there comparing the two scenarios in his head for the moment, the reality behind the doctor's words finally sank in. He might die if he stayed in Bikini Bottom. He was going to have to venture out onto dry land – like the reverse of Sandy the squirrel underwater – and stay there for an undetermined amount of time until filtration efforts to remove heavy metal concentration in Bikini Bottoms proved effective.

When was that going to be? What if that took several years, or never completes before his death? Where was he going to go on solid land? He was an octopus; he needed more or less a constant supply of water. And what would he do away from Bikini Bottoms? Who could he hate and feel alive from hating? Who would be there to drag him home if he collapsed again?

Squidward slowly pulled his lower tentacles on top of his chair and wrapped his two upper tentacles around them, burying his face in his knees. He tried to take deep breathes to stop himself from hyperventilating, but was aware that with every breath he drew in, more heavy metals were entering his body – filling his internal organs, penetrating his cells, slowly and silently killing him. But was this truly worse than the dry, foreign place that awaited him up on dry land, thousands of miles away from Spongebob's pineapple?

The doctor noticed his obvious tension. "Well, Mr. Tentacles, moving up to dry land is definitely nowhere near your only option. There are several contained, complete filtered communities that were established just a few hundred cities away."

"I would not be able to financially afford that." Squidward did not look up. The only way he would be able to live in one of those communities would be if he offered himself to become Squilliam's personal handmaid. He did not want to consider the possibility of even asking the banks for a loan so that he could relocate to a completely water-filtered community – firstly, there was no good estimate of how long he would have to quarantine himself before he can come back to Bikini Bottom, and secondly, it would be a completely illogical decision given the option of relocating onto dry land for a significantly reduced cost. If Sandy could be fiscally conscious and logical in her decision to leave Bikini Bottom, then why should he not do the same?

But it was so much easier said than done – so much easier.

Squidward was no longer impatient as he thanked the doctor for the appointment and left the office. He passed the waiting room as the next number was called out. He wondered how many of the fish in the waiting room were also suffering from heavy metal intoxication – only five fish out of the city's whole population had been hospitalized. Only five others. Why was this happening to him? Why was he so unlucky?

It was even more unlucky than living next to Spongebob.

Spongebob.

The water around him was becoming increasingly chillier. The hallway leading to the outside of the hospital was growing darker and darker. He could see the outside from the glass door that was half a hallway in front of him, but there was a strong sense of menace coming from the outside. The coldness that radiated from the glass doors seem to pass right through him in waves. His tentacles felt like they were frozen solid, and refused to take him farther forward. It was now late, and with many bus drivers on strike in protest of minimum wage laws, the buses were likely arriving every two hours.

Squidward dispensed two coins into the pay phone on the side of the hallway with one shaky upper tentacle, holding the phone to his face with the other. After dialing in Spongebob's home number, he clutched onto his churning stomach and dropped to his knees on the ground before the pay phone. His whole body was shaking. It was not from the heavy metal poisoning. He could not even cry – crying was for reserved for definite, not possibly indefinite, periods of suffering.

The phone ringed again and again. Nobody picked up. The phone went to voice mail. Squidward continued to hold the phone in his free tentacle, staring at the conjunction between wall and carpet before him. He almost wished that he was in more physical pain to distract him from the doctor's words.

"Squidward, there you are!"

The voice was high-pitched and familiar. Still sitting on the floor, Squidward slowly turned his head to see the yellow sponge and his pink starfish friend. Spongebob and Patrick ran to Squidward from the glass door entrance, their loud and colorful presences gradually easing the cold and dark atmosphere that had caged in on Squidward like a seagull on a shellfish. Spongebob dropped to his knees next to Squidward and worriedly placed a hand over Squidward's tentacle that was holding his stomach. "Are you ok, Squidward? I heard from Mr. Krabs when closing that you left early to go to the hospital… Why didn't you tell me?"

Squidward looked at Spongebob's anxious face and suddenly felt rather apologetic. Normally he would be snapping at the sponge that it was none of his business, but how many more days – or hours – would he have left in Bikini Bottom, where dim-witted individuals like Spongebob actually cared about his well-being, before he has to relocate to desolate dry land for his own survival? He looked back down. "I'm sorry."

"What did the doctor say?"

"I am apparently extremely vulnerable to heavy metal intoxication. Because I cannot afford to live in a full-filtered community, I have to momentarily… or semi-permanently relocate to dry land. I don't know how long it will take before I can permanently move back." Squidward said slowly. He continued to look at the ground, avoiding the sponge's gaze. He became aware that in just about a week, he was becoming the second person in Spongebob's life to move away. He did not want the guilt of seeing the sponge's face.

"We will miss your kindness and generosity, Squidward." Patrick Star sorrowfully commented with honestly. The pink starfish stepped towards Squidward and easily draped the thin octopus onto his back, and Spongebob still did not let go of the Squidward's tentacle.

Fully supported by Patrick, who carried him a lot easier than the sponge had before, Squidward stole a glance at the sponge. To his surprise, Spongebob had on a determined and hopeful expression.

"Everything will be ok, Squidward," the sponge smiled, walking alongside Patrick to make sure the starfish was walking in the right direction. "I'll come with you."

Squidward's head bobbed up and down over Patrick's shoulder. "Wait… what?"

"I will follow you onto dry land, Squidward." The sponge squeezed Squidward's tentacle, which he has still not released. "I have to make sure that you will be alright! Plus, I know where we can go."

"I… I can't let you… to where…"

"Sandy's in San Francisco of California right now, remember! I'm sure if we can find her, she can let us stay at her place." Spongebob frowned slightly as he became lost in thought. "She promised to send me a post card, but nothing has arrived. I'm sure the mail is just taking an awfully long time. San Francisco can't be that large, right? We should be able to find her if we try."

Squidward was silent for a while.

"Thank you."

He could tell that Spongebob wanted to see Sandy, and that going with him to dry land – to San Francisco – would be the ideal opportunity and reason for Spongebob to go and find the squirrel. That was relieving; otherwise he would feel guilty – and that was neither something he experienced regularly nor liked to experience. Plus, he could convince himself that Spongebob is only coming with him to see Sandy and that individuals in Bikini Bottom did not care about him to the degree he might have been mistaking. Maybe then, he would accept his own struggle with loneliness.

But part of him, not enough to shift his overall opinion by the slightest, wished that Spongebob could have asked to go to San Francisco for him. Just for him.

Squidward closed his eyes and allowed Patrick to carry him home.


	5. Chapter 5

Sandy sat by the window of the coffee shop that Tim had taken her to, watching the city squirrels outside walk by – some strolling casually, some pacing towards some significant destination. Her Irish crème flavored Italian cream soda was half full. She had browsed the boutique stores in the plaza in waiting, and changed her light purple skirt for a black and white striped t-shirt dress. Now that she was about to live her life on dry land, no longer in her scuba diving suit, she needed some extra changes of clothes.

The morning of the day before, she had said goodbye to Spongebob after they had spent their first night together. The following evening she had arrived by bus to the San Francisco coastline, spent the next few hours checking in her belongings in public storage, and had dragged her tired body to a cheap motel at almost midnight. She called Tim Chen from the motel's pay phones, set up a meeting with him at the coffee shop the next day, then collapsed on the motel's bed and drifted to dreamless sleep.

She had woken up six hours later, unable to fall back asleep again, and flipped on the motel's small complimentary television from the bed. She flipped through several channels – some 90's subtitled Korean drama starring some rabbits with surgery-enhanced front teeth, a game show in Spanish, and several commercial breaks – before she settled in on the morning news. The news announcer was a tired-looking hamster whose heavy eye bags were visible under a thick coat of foundation and powder.

Sandy missed the fish announcer for local Bikini Bottom news already.

"Seven female squirrels have still been missing as of this morning, their disappearances starting from two months ago. The police are still looking into their whereabouts." The tired radio announcer said as the screen flashed to photos of the seven missing young squirrels, all wide-eyed and smiling. "If you have any information relating to the case or have seen any of these young squirrels, please call the following toll-free number below. In the meantime, the San Francisco local police strongly advocate that all citizens take their own personal safety into higher priority, and to avoid any potentially dangerous or risky…"

Sandy saw that in the international "news in a flash" in a bar below the news announcer, there was a statement announcing her former company's officially declared bankruptcy. She turned off the television before the news announcer could finish her sentence, and stared at the blank television screen for a minute before having fallen back on her side to stare emptily at the curtained window, trying to clear her mind.

A few hours later, she was now waiting for Tim. She had sent Tim her signed contract by express mail, and he had told her over the pay phone that he had received it. Tim was finally showing her to her new workplace, where she would begin her new life in California, away from Spongebob and Bikini Bottom.

Sandy sipped her Italian soda and smoothed the short hemline of her new t-shirt dress. This was far from her first "new beginning" – when she had ventured to Bikini Bottom in a scuba diving suit for her research, it had been a risky step. She had been the only squirrel, the only natural land-dweller in a city populated by only fish and other sea creatures. From a logical perspective, that should have been a far greater challenge to her than resurfacing back to dry land. Where did her characteristic fearlessness go?

But when she had relocated to Bikini Bottom, she had nothing in the world to hold her back. She was young, brave, carefree, and her heart was everywhere. But when Spongebob came into her life, suddenly her happiness no longer belonged to only herself.

Her heart throbbed.

But she also remembered – more clearly and vividly than she would have liked to – her last night of her five-day job-seeking trip to San Francisco, when she had gotten completely wasted for the first time since high school graduation night in her potent state of emotional fragility… and had seduced Tim. Although she was not in any type of relationship with Spongebob, she felt guilty for it. She felt guilty for having given herself to a man besides the one that she loved.

But how could she let herself keep being in love Spongebob now that they were very likely in permanent physical separation? Sandy pushed her unfinished crème soda aside and buried her face in her arms. Maybe, she will continue to see Tim… He would arrive at the coffee shop soon, and she would be spending the day with him. Maybe she will spend the night with him again. And maybe, a few weeks later, he would ask her to start an official relationship with him and she would say yes. And then maybe she would let herself fall in love with him, and push Spongebob out of her heart. And then maybe with time, she could heal and forget.

But it was al a series of too many maybes.

"Sandy! You're early, I'm so sorry."

"No problem at all." Sandy smiled as she stood up and reciprocated Tim's greeting embrace. "I woke up early this morning and had nothing to do, so I came here early and did some shopping."

"You look fantastic." Tim flashed his signature grin again, his eyes quickly glancing down at the new t-shirt dress that clung onto each curve of her athletic but slender body. "Have you had lunch yet? Shall I treat you?"

"Thank you so for the offer but I'm fine. I had an Italian soda." Sandy picked up her purse. "Are you showing me to your workplace today? Is there an interview process? I wasn't sure about any of this, so I didn't quite prepare any resume or anything…"

"Just bring yourself and be yourself." Tim boldly reached up and took her hand in his. "I am sure that my manager will think that you are awesome for who you are. We are a very selective company, but it's a very informal and casual progress. Trust me."

Sandy walked alongside Tim as he guided her off of the rooftop and back into the human-scaled streets of San Francisco. "I'm still not entirely show what your company does."

"Again, it's very complicated to explain right now. We will demonstrate what we do once we get there." Tim led her across the street and away from the sharp high heels of a human crossing next to them. "Just relax. We'll be there very soon."

"Ok." Sandy found herself gripping tightly onto his hand that was holding hers. Maybe she was not alone in the big city after all. Maybe, under Tim's guidance, she can feel true happiness again. The possibility of that delighted her. The sun shone brightly between the crevices of the skyscrapers that loomed overhead, and the gentle breeze hitting her face contained notes of street corner hot dogs and men's cologne – not of the ocean.

"We're almost there."

Tim suddenly turned and ducked into a narrow crevice between two buildings, pulling Sandy with him in a sharp turn. The two buildings were tightly packed side-by-side, and Sandy winced as her tail scraped on the wall during Tim's sharp turn. She struggled to catch up to Tim, who held her hand tightly in his. "Is this where the office is?"

"Am I walking too quickly? I'm sorry. If we don't hurry we might be late, and that would seem impolite, right?" Tim did not slow down, nor did he look back over his shoulder to face Sandy. Sandy felt a cloud of puzzlement. Just where was this office?

They reached an empty, square lot that was right in between four tall skyscrapers. Looking up, Sandy could only see the smallest square portion of the sky. Around them were soiled post-it notes and paper shredder scraps, all presumably having fallen out of the office windows above. Sandy noted that it must have been quite unfortunate for the humans working in the cubicles close to those windows, to get so little sunlight exposure in their everyday work and such a less-than-pleasant view of three other compacted buildings. The narrow crevice between two of the buildings that they had came through appeared to be the only entrance and exit leading to the streets outside.

"Where do we go now?" Sandy pondered. Tim's workplace was surely located in a strange place. "Why does this place look so isolated?"

"Again, we're a completely new company, so we are working in this momentary headquarters for now until we relocate to an official building." Tim still did not look at her, and when she caught up to try to meet his eyes he seemed to be avoiding her gaze. He went to the foot of one of the three buildings, and Sandy identified a door so camouflaged and unpainted against the background that she would have likely never thought of it to be a door otherwise. He pulled up a piece of the wall next the door and rapidly dialed in a code of such length that Sandy had no idea how he had memorized it, but in spite of that he appeared to stand in front of her while holding her arm as to block her view of the keypad with his whole body. Sandy furrowed her brows slightly. If she was to be working in this place along with him, should she not eventually learn the entrance code as well?

He entered, pulling Sandy inside next to him. After blinking several times to adjust her eyes to the dimness inside, Sandy found herself in a old-looking elevator. Tim pressed the button to the eighth floor.

Then she identified something he had said that seemed inconsistent, and decided to voice her opinion on that. "Hey, Tim…"

"Yes?"

"Please correct me if I remembered wrong, but… You just said that this was a completely new company. But when I met you that other day, didn't you tell me that this was only a new branch of a preexisting company?"

Tim was silent, and did not turn around. His hand still gripped tightly onto hers.

"Um… Tim?"

"I said it wrong. I'm sorry – I haven't been getting a lot of sleep. We are a new branch of an existing company. That's what I meant."

Suddenly, a surge of hesitance and uncertainty flooded over Sandy like a hurricane. She suddenly detected a strong sense of uncertainty about Tim's character – and she must have been too overwhelmed by her leaving of Bikini Bottom and Spongebob before to dedicate much attention onto this before, but it all came to her all of a sudden. She was in a small, dark elevator with a handsome stranger that she had only met once before and spent the night with once, and signed his contract – without even knowing the name or purpose of the company that she was coming to work at. What if this was a scam? No – it must be a scam, what kind of legitimate company would hire employees like this, when she has absolutely no idea of what kind of job she is even being interviewed for?

Tim's hand was still tightly holding onto hers. She needed a way to get out.

"Oh, Tim…" Sandy tried to pull her hand out of his grip, but the strong male squirrel held had a steady hold on her hand. The elevator was almost at the eighth floor. "I'm so sorry, but I just remembered something. I actually have an appointment at public storage with regard to which lot my things are being shipped to and if I don't make it, they may deliver my personal belongings somewhere very far away. I just remembered this, I'm so sorry to you and your manager. Could we possibly reschedule? Or if not, I understand…"

"Are you sure?" Tim seemed to almost tighten his grip even more. He did not turn around to look at her, as he could sense her every motion from his hold on her hand. "The manager is taking his time for this appointment with you. It would look extremely bad for both of us if you cancel last-minute."

"Yes, I'm sure." Sandy felt cold beads of perspiration forming on her forehead. She was afraid of where they were going all of a sudden. She was afraid of this handsome stranger that would not let go of her hand.

"Please give our company a chance… It will not take very long, I promise." Tim's voice sounded cold and distant. "When I had my interview, it took only five minutes."

Five minutes did not sound like a reasonable amount of time for an interview at all. Tim was making facts up. She had been tricked by him in her moment of emotional vulnerability.

"No, I'm going back down." Sandy moved toward the elevator buttons, but he swung his arm that was holding onto her backwards and her whole body fell back. He prevented her from falling behind and instead, flung her out of the open elevator doors to the eighth floor that had just opened. The hallway that she stumbled into was even more dimly lightened than the elevator they had came in, and had no windows. Sandy swore that she could hear crying and pounding on doors.

"It's too late." Tim's face was expressionless. Where did his warm smile go? What became of his gentleness when he had gingerly lifted her off of the water fountain where they had met?

"Let me go!" Sandy tried to push past him and enter the elevator again, but as she ran past him she felt a sharp wind – followed by a swift and powerful slap across her cheek. She fell against the wall of the hallway from the momentum of the slap, her face burning from the pressure of the slap. Tim reached into the elevator, pressed the button the ground floor, and sent the elevator shuttle back down.

"I'm sorry, Sandy." Tim turned back to her. "You've came a long way. It would be a waste if you left now."

Sandy had lifted herself off of the floor, and sent her leg swinging onto the side of the head. Without showing a hint of surprise Tim stepped back slightly, his hands shooting up to catch her leg between his hands. He twisted her leg around in midair and swung her against the other wall. Sandy's head and back slammed hard against the bricks which protruded from the wall. She quickly climbed back to her feet, wincing as she put pressure on the leg that Tim had twisted. She aimed a punch towards his shoulder, which Tim quickly lifted a hand to block, but it had been a trick to fool him – her other hand was sending a swift chop towards the nerves on the back of his neck.

But before her chop made contact, Sandy suddenly felt an intense pain in her stomach. All the wind left her body as she fell onto Tim's lifted knee, her whole body crumpling in agony. Tim lifted the rest of his leg and pushed her back and she fell sprawled to the floor, clutching at her stomach where his knee had struck her and gasping for air.

Tim grabbed her by the tail and dragged her on the floor. Sandy was too distracted in nursing her agonized abdomen to keep track of the small shards of sharp rocks and broken glass on the floor which ripped her t-shirt dress and scraped her skin. He pulled her through a few more hallways before finally opening another door by keypad. Through her screen of tears, Sandy looked up from the floor and saw that the room was illuminated by harsh yellow ceiling light and had only a stained mattress beneath a security camera.

"Tim…" Sandy muttered. "Why?"

Tim did not answer her. He stepped behind her and kicked her on the back, the blunt force sending pain done her whole spine as she rolled around towards the inside of the room. He then kicked her on her hands that were holding her stomach, almost breaking her paws and sending another wave of pain through her whole body. He then kicked her unprotected stomach again, and she had insufficient oxygen inside of her to even scream out in pain as the force of the kick pushed her into the center of the room. He then reached down, picked her up from the floor bridal style, and tossed her onto the dirty mattress in one swift motion.

He turned around and closed the door as Sandy rolled around on the soiled mattress, clutching her injured stomach in her damaged paws and moaning in pain.

Sandy coughed, the movement sending another wave of agony through her whole battered body, as she looked towards the now-closed door. The room had no windows. She was in too much pain to think properly. She wanted to fall back asleep and wake up to find everything as just a dream – wake up in Bikini Bottom next to Spongebob.

"Spongebob..."

Her consciousness drifted out.


End file.
